MONTREAL - When I look back over the past decade of restaurant reviewing, there’s no denying the Japanese category has been an interesting/challenging/maybe even trying one to cover. Sushi was at its peak of popularity in the ’90s and the way I remember it, the most interesting contemporary cuisine at the time was not necessarily coming out of the French or Italian restaurants so much as establishments such as Treehouse, Soto, Mikado and Sho Dan. In fact so great was the Japanese influence, that French chefs were busy trying their hand at producing maki rolls and some semblance of sashimi with powdered wasabi. And how common it was back then to see the city’s top chefs enjoying some after-hours Japanese at Soto on The Main.

Prior to that were the more classic Japanese restaurants – Sakura, the much regretted Katsura and the rundown-yet-wonderful Tokyo Sukiyaki – where the teriyaki was most probably outselling the maki and the sushi bar (if there was one) was small and sparsely populated.

Yet soon enough, sushi went viral. Even ambitious foodies were giving it a go, and all the young cooks were captivated by everything Japanese ranging from nori to dashi, and Global knives to episodes of the original Iron Chef. We all learned the difference between ponzu and yuzu, while struggling to master the sushi chopstick grip (some were even sharp enough to discover fingers were the preferable method). The mind boggles at the thought of the sheer amount of red tuna that passed the lips of maki-mad Montrealers in the ’90s. Boy we sure loved our sushi!

And yet, considering the lack of focus on the Japanese restaurant scene today, one wonders, has sushi seen its day?

2011 marked the first year I did not review one sushi restaurant, and I can think of very few other critics who did. Has the push to favour sustainable fish taken its toll on the sushi scene? Has the wine bar usurped the sushi bar? Has the hip izakaya replaced the unhip sushi bar? Does the supermarket sushi stand epitomize the once-happening yet now ubiquitous foodstuff? Are we experiencing sushi ennui?

Judging by the crowds that still frequent establishments like Kaizen, Mikado, Jun-i and Maiko, the answer can only be “iie” (that, my inquisitive friends, means “no” in Japanese). But I’ve long believed that if the restaurant Zen Ya is still open, sushi remains as popular a dinner choice as steak/frites.

Why so? Let’s just say Zen Ya is one obscure dining establishment. While traipsing up the two dingy flights of stairs to get to the restaurant, my friend asked, “Where are you taking me?”

“Secret restaurant,” I answered, before arriving in the entranceway and making a sweeping ta-dah gesture.

Zen Ya, though, is not such a secret to Montreal sushi lovers.

Opened in 2001, this stunning space is a study in black, as in black walls, black chairs, black tables, and a black sushi bar. There are a couple of tatami rooms on the right of the entranceway, and if you turn left and descend a few steps, you get to the main dining room and sushi bar where head-scarf-sporting chefs assemble some of the spiffiest maki, nigiri, and sashimi plates in the city. Sushi aside, Zen Ya offers an extensive menu that ranges from yakitori to ramen, with a few creative dishes that go beyond the usual Japanese resto fare.

The reason I ended up at Zen Ya for the first time since I last reviewed it five years ago was simple: I went to see a play in the Salle Gesù and had a case of the post-curtain munchies. The area is not known for its scintillating restaurant scene, yet Zen Ya has long been one of the best bets in the neighbourhood.

I took my place at the sushi bar at 9:45 and ordered up a storm of classic nigiri and makis, both classic and signature. Every bite was amazing.

Though I tend to like a bigger smear of wasabi between fish and rice than head sushi chef Mike Ha, I found his rice ideally seasoned (that great balance between sweet and vinegar-sour), the fish was lush and fresh. The makis were whirls of flavour and texture, with the well-known kamakazi and rainbow rolls equally as delicious as the chef’s special Mike’s Roll (a tempura maki filled with spicy salmon, shrimp, avocado, and flying fish roe served with a lemon sauce) and the more dense Manila Roll (a soy-paper-wrapped maki filled mostly with spicy tuna, fish roe and shrimp tempura served with a spicy teriyaki sauce). Yum!

A week later I returned to sample some of the non-sushi offerings. We began with a pretty plate of beef sashimi topped with carrots, beets, capers and a citrusy soy sauce.

As much as I love the melting texture of the meat, the sauce was too copious, thus drowning the thin meat slices and overwhelming their subtle flavour.

I liked the looks of the gyoza dumplings and the filling was well seasoned and slightly spicy. Yet I wished the dumpling wrapper had been thinner. As is, it’s like biting through some sort of doughy sea shell. Weird.

The delicate and not-too-greasy tempura brought the meal back up a few notches, and a generous bowl of ramen with its seaweed, watercress, pork belly, and shoyu broth laced with scallions and filled with noodles, warmed us through on a cold winter night. To end on a sweet note, I threw caution to the wind and ordered a scoop of deep-fried ice cream. Baseball-sized, this sphere of sweetness was doused in cheap chocolate sauce, topped with whipped cream, and decorated with blueberries and strawberries. After all the sophistication of the previous dishes, this ice cream “bombe” bombed.

Yet some of the restaurant’s previous failures were now a success: first and foremost the service. When I last visited Zen Ya, service was as abstract and colourful as a Kandinsky painting. Waiters would come and go, then hover, and finally disappear come bill time. Seriously odd. But this time my waitress was very sweet, very present and quite good at explaining menu items. An occasional smile would have been nice, but compared to the Zen Ya of old, this team is sharp.

Even when tasting the more creative makis, there’s no denying sushi is no longer the force it once was. I mean, what’s left to put in there, prosciutto? (bet it has been done). But maybe it’s time we stop looking to sushi for a cutting edge experience, and just accept it as another facet of our restaurant scene. And at Zen Ya you can enjoy it with a bottle of sake or a tall glass of Sapporo. The plasticized, wine-agency-assembled wine list is workmanlike, but fairly priced. The room is pretty groovy and the location is a welcome oasis in an dreary area lacking in great dining options.

Oh, one last thing. As good as Zen Ya is at night time, the lunch hour is more of a scene. If you’re looking for a place to leave the world behind and enjoy some beautiful food, I can think of few restaurants that offer as soothing a setting.

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